


Clean Up Works

by magicgenetek



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Bath Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sparring, Tentacles, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicgenetek/pseuds/magicgenetek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunson helps Simon clean up after a sparring match and by clean up I mean bathtub sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean Up Works

“Karate kick!” Hunson’s leg flipped up and smacked Simon in the nose.   
  
Simon reeled back, tearing up at the pain, before pointing at Hunson and yelling, “Zap lightning!” A series of lightning-shaped ice chunks rained down on Hunson, which he only narrowly avoided by jumping out of the way.   
  
Marceline cheered from the porch as her fathers sparred. Simon had finally figured out how to use ice to keep the crown from falling off so their fighting sessions didn’t end with an ill-placed elbow, and Hunson had learned that turning his face inside out to shock Simon ended in Simon ragequitting, so their fights lasted longer. Simon was panting, sweat working it’s way down his face in short freeze-melt bursts, and Hunson’s suit hadn’t had time to regenerate from rags.   
  
“Do you have what it takes?” Hunson teased.  
  
Simon spread his arms, grinning. “I, Simon, will knock you down!” He lunged and thrust a fist-sized ball of ice into Hunson’s face.   
  
Hunson staggered back, wiping black ichor off his mouth as his split lips grew back together. Then he perked up. “Nice throw! That was a lot better than last time!”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah!” Marceline yelled from the porch.   
  
Hunson mimicked Simon’s stance. “You were very grounded and that’s good. You want to use a solid stance to make your magic solidify. Big, solid attacks need you to be steady.”  
  
Simon nodded. “I’m going to try it again. Brace yourself! I, Simon, will knock you down!” He lunged again, pressing his bare feet into the ground; the resulting ice ball was large enough to bowl Hunson over.   
  
If Hunson was normal, Simon would worry, but he knew Hunson could take a lot more damage than that. He spun and yanked his arms up, pulling water from the ground to become ice spikes that floated around him. “You better get up!” He pulled his arms back, then thrust them forward, sending the spikes flying at Hunson. “Kacrackle!”  
  
Hunson sat up, then ducked under the first few spikes; the rest pinned him to the ground. He looked at his pierced clothing, then smiled up at Simon. “That’s an entirely new spell, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah,” Simon panted. He spun one of the spikes free with a flick of his wrist. “I wanted to surprise you with it for a big finish! Did it work?”  
  
“It worked.” Hunson flopped back down. “You win, Simon.”  
  
Simon whooped and spun around. Marceline applauded from the porch, then ran over, jumped up and hugged him. He spun her around as Hunson tugged his suit free of the ice spikes and stood, then tossed her to Hunson so she could hug him as well. Marceline cackled into Hunson’s lapels as he held her; Simon wrapped them both in a hug, still shaking with excitement from his win.  
  
“Good job, Simon,” Hunson said, and gave him a quick kiss.  
  
Simon giggled. “Thanks. Good match.”  
  
“You totally beat Daddy,” Marceline sang, and hopped back into Simon’s arms. “Good job, Simon!”  
  
“Thanks, Marceline.” He and Hunson broke their embrace to walk back to the house. “Did you have fun watching?”  
  
“Yeah! I liked the part where you two were wrestling, and when you were throwing ice and when Daddy did that thing where his leg went in a circle!” She squirmed out of his arms and hopped on the ground. “I’m gonna write a song about it! I’ll see you two at dinner!” At which point she ran off.  
  
Simon smiled after her until Hunson flopped his arms over his shoulders. “I can’t believe she’s picking up on Earth music faster than Nightosphere magic. It’s so complicated.”  
  
“It’s not that bad! Besides, on Earth, everyone knows what music is. She grew up with it. She did not grow up with Nightosphere magic.” Simon reached up and squeezed Hunson’s hands. “Let’s go inside before I get any smellier; I probably reek already from all this fighting.”  
  
“You smell fine,” Hunson said, and he pressed his nose against the back of Simon’s neck and sniffed to make his point. Simon giggled as Hunson’s hot nose traveled up and down his neck. “I like it.”  
  
“You’re a demon,” Simon said, but he still smiled. He knew well enough that he was disgusting, and he stunk of sweat and dirt, but Hunson meant well. He didn’t mind that Hunson lied to make him feel better. The effort was enough to make him feel good.   
  
“I don’t see how that matters,” Hunson said, and he moved Simon’s braid out of the way and licked his neck. “Mn. Taste good, too.”  
  
“Hunson!” Simon shivered. “Not outside. What if someone’s watching?”  
  
“This cliff,” Hunson said, “is too far above the rest of the Nightosphere for anyone to see us.” He nipped Simon’s neck. “The only one watching you is me.” And he drew to Simon’s side, shifting their grips so that he and Simon were posed to dance. “But we can go inside if it’s really bugging you.”  
  
“It is.” Simon shifted with Hunson. Simon barely remembered how to waltz, but for a moment, he wondered if this was how it should feel. They circled each other until they got into Hunson’s mansion.  
  
Hunson broke one handhold to lock the door behind them; they wandered up the stairs and into Simon’s room, into the bathroom. It was only when Simon took the crown off, looked in the mirror and saw them both that something clicked. “Why did you come with me?”  
  
“Why not?” Hunson broke his grip and perched on the toilet. “Maybe I want to watch you shower.”  
  
“Hunson, please.” Simon shrugged off his vest, then started unbuttoning his shirt. “Was that fight that stimulating?”  
  
“Yes.”   
  
Simon glanced at Hunson in the mirror. He was leaning forward, his eyes following Simon’s wrists as he undressed. Simon blushed. “What was it that did it?”  
  
“Mn, that last attack. You pinned me down like a...like a butterfly by an ento - en - by someone who studies insects. I wonder,” Hunson said, “what you had in mind if we kept on fighting and Marceline wasn’t there? Would you have crawled onto me and kissed me?”  
  
Simon’s hands shook as he unbuttoned the final button of his collared shirt and let it fall off him. His shoulders were still obscenely marked with bruises and bite marks from a very exciting night before; he closed his eyes, remembering the scent of sulfur and old books, the feeling of the suit between his bare thighs, warm fingers on his hips and arms possessively around him -   
  
“Yes,” Simon breathed.   
  
Arms wrapped around him, warm and tight against his ribs and elbows. Hunson dropped Simon’s braid over one shoulder, then kissed the other, sucking and biting on Simon until he moaned.   
  
“Do you think I’d do this,” Hunson said, his hand sweeping down to fondle Simon through his pants, “if I thought you were ugly?”  
  
“Ynng,” SImon managed. He manifested ice on his hand and tapped Hunson’s arm; Hunson recognized the signal and stood back. Simon opened his eyes and caught his breath.  
  
He was ugly, though. The huge, arcing nose and the darkness under his eyes that never went away and how his ribs bulged through his skin and he looked like a frostbite victim and it wasn’t fair, bringing that up when they were just starting to have a good time! Of course Hunson thought he was ugly. It was as natural as saying the Nightosphere’s sky was red or that Marceline would always have Hambo.   
  
“Don’t say anything about my looks today. Just- just don’t,” Simon said.   
  
Hunson nodded, although his face said that he didn’t understand why. Simon didn’t care to explain; he just leaned back and let Hunson catch him.   
  
“What do I talk about?” he asked.   
  
Simon closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see himself in the mirror. “Anything. Like, ah,” he mumbled as Hunson worked him out of his pants, “is Marceline too old to be jumping on us now, or should I use different spell names,” and he kicked off his pants and underwear and Hunson snaked his tentacles between his legs, curling them against the insides of his thighs and around his cock, “because I’m still cribbing off video games like a huge nerd but it’s not like there’s anyone else who knows them so they can’t complain about the technical differences between Blizzaga and Mabufudyne and Kacrackle and - “  
  
“You worry too much,” Hunson said, and he put his hand over Simon’s mouth. “Stop badmouthing yourself when we’re trying to have fun.”  
  
Simon nodded. Hunson scooped him into his arms, then placed him in the bathtub. He turned the water on hot and let it gush between Simon’s toes; Simon heard the suit falling off piece by piece, and then Hunson grabbed Simon’s leg and put it on the side of the tub. Simon raised the other one to the other side at once, leaving his legs spread wide.  
  
“Good,” Hunson said, and he kissed Simon’s knee. Simon heard his feet splash as he got into the tub, and the water rose higher up Simon’s back as Hunson settled in front of him.   
  
“What are you thinking of?” Simon asked.   
  
Hunson turned the water off; then hooked one of Simon’s legs over his shoulder. “A reward for the winner.”  
  
“Sounds nice.” Simon fumbled with his other leg until Hunson helped it onto his shoulder, then slid down until his ass was against Hunson’s crotch and his legs were pressed against Hunson’s thick chest. Hunson was warmer than the few centimeters of water around them. Simon peeked to see that his tentacles had reformed from long and thin and many to something thicker and fewer and shorter; he could already imagine how full he’d be with them inside him, writhing, and shuddered. He reached down so he could touch himself, but Hunson swatted his hand away. “Come onnnnn.”  
  
“I’ll take care of it,” Hunson said. “Just wait.”  
  
Simon nodded and pulled back, closing his eyes again. He listened to Hunson’s breathing and him unscrewing a lid, and then something wet being rubbed - Simon tried to relax as he felt the slick tips of tentacles push into him one by one, filling him up centimeter by centimeter until he felt like he couldn’t get any more in, and the continued. He whined, reaching down again; Hunson beat him to his cock, his soft fingers enveloping him.   
  
“Told you,” Hunson said.  
  
“Don’t,” Simon said, “sound so smug.” He flexed his legs to bury the tentacles further in him. “You’re going to, to knock me out of the nice mood you’ve got building up.”  
  
“I’m trying not to,” Hunson said, leaning in; Simon touched his lips gently and Hunson kissed his fingers one by one. That went straight to his groin as well; the tentacles squirmed inside him and the sheer pressure of being filled was so good and warm and tight and he tried to push himself deeper on them. It was dizzying, how much he loved being filled, how Hunson’s hand was hot and didn’t stop and Simon knew he was getting loud and he tried to fill up his mouth with his fingers so he wouldn’t whine so loudly but Hunson stopped his hand again.  
  
“I like hearing you,” Hunson said. His breath was choppy; he squeezed Simon’s hand. “Don’t be quiet!”  
  
Simon whined. “But, but - “  
  
“Talk to me.” Hunson leaned in and kissed Simon’s knee hooked over his shoulder. “I want to hear you completely lose it from what I’m doing to you.”  
  
“I’m already lost, Hunson, it’s so good - “  
  
“Tell me how good it is.”  
  
“This isn’t fair, Hunson, making,” and Simon gasped as the tentacles in him flexed together, it was too much and the water sloshed around him as he squirmed for more, “making me talk when you’re so far inside me and it’s not fair how good you are at this.”   
  
“Good. It’s not fair how fun it is to spar with you, so I should get an advantage somewhere.” Hunson flexed inside Simon again and Simon keened. “Say my name.”  
  
“H-hunson - “  
  
“Again.”  
  
“Hunson, please, Hunson - “  
  
He climaxed, shuddering, before melting boneless in the tub. Hunson made a pleased noise and splashed water on Simon to clean him off before withdrawing his tentacles. He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, before climbing out of the bathtub.   
  
Simon opened his eyes and leaned on the edge of the tub, chin on crossed arms, so he could watch Hunson dress. The amulet glowed as he grabbed each part of his suit, which then wooshed onto his potato-shaped body. Simon smiled. “I think,” he said, resting his arms on the side of the tub, “it’s not fair that demons can’t orgasm. I’m never going to be able to return that kind of favor.”  
  
“Nah, it’s fine. I get plenty of other benefits from you.” Hunson jumped into his boots and wiggled to get them fit comfortably on his feet. Then he knelt and kissed Simon. “And it’s not a favor. Go wash up.”  
  
He made to stand, but Simon reached out and tapped on Hunson’s head, guiding it back to him. He kissed Hunson again, taking care to suck off the remains of the sour ichor from where Simon had split his lips during sparring. “Love you.”  
  
“I know,” said Hunson, and he ruffled Simon’s bangs. “Take care of yourself. I want you to be happy at dinner.”  
  
“I will be.”  
  
Simon watched him leave before draining the tub and filling it again with clean hot water. He wasn’t the best-looking and he was never going to be anything approaching normal again, but he had his family and he was cared for and that was really all he needed.  
  
Although, he thought as he started to wash the sweat off the bruises of last night, he appreciated that the sex was good too.


End file.
